A Hobbit Advent Calendar
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: COMPLETE Glimpses of love, friendship, and family among hobbits, elves, dwarves, men, and wizards during Advent, spanning through the ages. Bookverse, movieverse, AU. No slash.
1. I-V

Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

* * *

A Hobbit Advent Calendar

**_Mistletoe _**

Elladan and Elrohir's antics during the banquet – gleefully holding sprigs of mistletoe over unsuspecting guests' heads resulting in much mortification and awkwardness – were wearing on their father. After the very embarrassed, quick peck they got from Legolas and Tauriel, Lord Elrond took the twins to task (there was only so much his placating skills and nerves could take in two hours, thank you very much!).

In despairing tones they accused him of ruining _everything_. In a more calm and dignified voice, his attempts at pointing out how their behavior was strongly lacking were cut short by Elladan who gasped sharply and gaped like a fish. His brother and father followed his pointing finger to where Arwen and Legolas were sharing a kiss, no mistletoe anywhere in sight.

Elrohir whispered under his breath, "Finally!"

_Oh!_ Elrond thought, comprehension dawning.

* * *

**_Gingerbread _**

Both Thranduil's "downcast-ness" and bad headache (whether due to the afternoon's draining council meeting or the unexpected blizzard causing the elves to stay an extra day at least, he could not tell) were forgotten when Legolas answered the knocking at the his father's door. The scent of something sweet crept into the air along with an exultant cry of, "Elf friend!" followed by the pitter-patter of little boots racing into the room. A rare smile touched the elven king's face as he obligingly lifted five-year-old Thorin onto his lap who snuggled into him happily and offered a piece of gingerbread to his favorite elf, bringing back memories of long-ago Yuletides to the king as he graciously accepted.

* * *

**_Mulled Wine _**

"Cheers," Bilbo said, gently clinking his wine glass with Gandalf's.

"Cheers," the wizard echoed the sentiment and drank half of the beverage in one gulp. Warmth, spice, and sweetness ran through his mouth and down his throat. Aye, it had been too long since he last accepted his friend's invitation to visit during Yule, enjoy some of his mull wine, watch the snowfall, and admire the pine tree covered in lights and decorations.

* * *

**_Snowfall _**

The hobbit had finally ceased his excited dancing and skipping about, now simply standing in the middle of the clearing, head tilted back as he watched the snow fall, his cheeks pink and eyes sparkling. From the opening of the cave where the company had set up camp, Bofur marveled at Bilbo's joy which had not diminished since the snowflakes started falling an hour ago. Halflings were truly fascinating little creatures.

* * *

**_Tradition _**

Bilbo hesitated stepping away from the door of the scribe's cell when he heard the dwarf try to hold back a wet sniffle; it was dark, cold, and Ori was alone, separated from his big brothers. Pity flowing through him, the hobbit sat down, leaning his back against the door.

"Do you have a favorite Yuletide tradition?" he asked.

All he received at first was a sharp gasp of surprise before Ori admitted that listening to the legends concerning the very first dwarven Yuletide was his favorite, his voice growing stronger and less frightened as he told Bilbo the legend.

* * *

Author's Note: "Gingerbread" is based on _Elf Friend Mine_.


	2. VI-X

**_Bells _**

Elves and dwarves alike stopped and gaped at their respective monarchs as they walked down the hallway, both jingling with every step.

"I lost the bet," Thorin pointed out, not for the first time.

"True, but this way there should not be any problems during the gift exchange," Thranduil explained, appearing terribly pleased with himself as he flickered a bell at the end of a blond braid.

"So that's your game," the dwarf chuckled, purposely causing the many bells adorning his dark hair to ring out.

* * *

**_Wrapping Paper _**

Lord Elrond did a double take as, looking down the long table, he saw Gimli enveloped in variously colored and designed wrapping paper, a bright red sparkly bow sticking to his head to complete the picture. The dwarfling seemed pleased with his situation, blabbing excitedly in baby talk to Prince Legolas who cuddled him and grinned fondly. Elrond hastily raised his napkin to his mouth when he spotted Thorin and Thranduil's equally horrified expressions.

* * *

**_Crackers _**

"Come now! It is Yule, and this is a popular Yule tradition!" Radagast waved the colorful, thin, round-shaped package under Saruman's nose insistently, for once not being cowed by either a put-out word or a glare from the white wizard.

This was getting ridiculous. Saruman just knew the others were secretly laughing at his predicament. Best to humor him and get it over with.

"Fine!" he huffed, snatching the...cracker whatsathing from the brown wizard and pulling on both ends as he'd been instructed. He absolutely did not scream like a girl at the loud bang and shower of confetti that rained down on him when the package opened, a mere loud chuckle it was.

"That's the spirit!" Radagast crowed before rushing to Gandalf.

Saruman wondered for the billionth time how exactly the odd fellow had ended up as a wizard.

* * *

**_Carols _**

The last time Nori sang was in Bag End and Rivendell, silly ditties. So when his deep voice quietly joined in with those of the people of Lake-town – "_All is calm, all is bright, 'round yon virgin, mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild, sleep in heavenly peace"_ – a lump formed in Dori's throat and his eyes stung. He recalled how as a young dwarf Nori used to beg for them to sing carols months before Yuletide. Swallowing hard, the silver-haired dwarf wished he had granted his brother's request more than he had.

* * *

**_Hot Chocolate _**

Shivering, Tauriel cupped her hands around her mouth and blew in an attempt to warm them up, blinking against the snowflakes flying into her face. She stared at the steaming mug that materialized in front of her nose and then raised an eyebrow when she looked up at Legolas' smiling face. Taking the offered mug, her eyes brightened, recognizing the dark liquid and bobbling large marshmallows inside.

"Thank you, mellon," she sighed happily.

* * *

Author's Note: "Bells" is based on _That's My Duty_. "Wrapping Paper" is based on _Here With Me_.


	3. XI-XV

**_Warmth _**

Bilbo had loved snow for as long as he could remember. And encountering it in the middle of a quest to reclaim a lost kingdom made Bilbo think perhaps things would turn out all right, that he belonged here, that he could somehow call thirteen dwarves and a wizard family.

A violent chill shook his body, causing him briskly rub his hands up and down his arms. An instant later, an unexpected warmness settled over Bilbo's head and ears, followed by a wool scarf being wrapped snugly around his neck. Startled, the hobbit looked up at a bare-headed Bofur, who grinned at him before sticking out his tongue to catch snowflakes on it.

* * *

**_Candlelight _**

Celeborn looked up from his papers when the study door squeaked, opening to reveal his wife in the doorway. The candle Galadriel held bathed her pale face and white dress in a golden glow. Silently, gracefully she came into the room.

She spoke softly, "Celebrian will be bursting into our room, no doubt, at sunrise for us to open presents. Come to bed." She held out a hand to the silver-haired elf.

Sighing deeply, her husband accepted it while he rose from his seat at his desk. As she started to turn away, he tugged gently to bring her closer to him. Leaning forward, Celeborn impulsively kissed her, and she smiled against his lips.

* * *

**_Home _**

"Uncle Oin!" Gimli cried when he threw open the door.

The healer, exhausted by the long, hard day's work, smiled and lifted his little nephew up into his arms with ease. "Hello, lad!"

"Are you staying for Yule?" the dwarfling asked in a hopeful whisper.

Oin's "yes" earned him cheers and another long hug from the ginger-haired lad, and as he returned the embrace, he thought, _it's good to be home_.

* * *

**_Midnight _**

"Wake up, Uncle! Wake up!"

The two excited voices and jostling of the bed disrupted Thorin's sleep. With a groan he rolled over, burying his face in his pillow.

"Five more minutes," he murmured. He grunted when two small bodies purposely jumped on him.

"But, Uncle Thorin, it is midnight!" Fili pleaded.

"Already?"

"Yes!" Kili answered, clapping his hands. "You promised!"

Shaking his head, Thorin sat up and looked at his nephews. They appeared much too awake for such a late hour of the night, shaking with energy, faces glowing with excitement.

"Very well," he yawned, permitting them to help throw back the covers. "But remember," he managed to appear and sound stern while only half awake. "Only _one_ _gift_ is opened now. The rest wait until after breakfast. Understand?" He glanced between them.

The two dwarflings nodded vigorously. A smile tugging on his lips, Thorin sighed as Fili and Kili scrambled into his arms, wrapping their small arms around him, pressing kisses to his cheeks. Standing and walking out of his room, the dwarf chuckled, wondering how he got himself talked into these things.

* * *

**_Roaring Fires _**

Smaug's devastating fire and the seemingly countless goblin torches had made Bifur lose his focus. His gaze had become lost and empty as he was drawn into a dark isolated place without escape that terrified him; he only finally had come back to the present when violently shaken, his worried cousins' raised voices finding him.

Now the doors of the main hall were thrown open, revealing the festive decorations. But the only thing the dwarf saw was the roaring fireplace, and he froze, the world threatening to spin and darken around him. Suddenly a firm, unfamiliar hand pressed down on his shoulder, and the storm swirling inside him grew calm. Inhaling deeply, Bifur discovered Bard standing by his side. There was no judgment or fear in his dark gaze; the bowman looked at him with a sense of understanding, empathy.

Holding the man's gaze, the dwarf sighed, realizing he was not the only one who was haunted by dragon fire and gaining comfort from that knowledge. Clasping the man on his lower arm, Bifur grunted his thanks and bowed his head. Bard's smile revealed his comprehension, and, neither letting go, the two together stepped further into the hall.


	4. XVI-XX

**_Jumpers_**

_What if Frodo does not like it?_ Ori worried. (Unlike the other dwarves, all called "uncle," he had never met Bilbo's nephew before.) His gift was not magical like the flying dragon from the wizard. It was not as cute as the stuffed bear from Thorin. Nor was it as emblematic as the hooded cloaks made in the colors of the Ur and In families from Bofur and Dwalin—

"Oh!" Frodo lifted up the knitted sweater. Bright blue with a thick golden band running along the hem and end of the sleeves, on the front a brown robed figure rode a sled drawn by Rhosgobel rabbits. Immediately putting it on, Frodo giggled at the way it swallowed him.

"You'll grow into it," Bilbo said before the scribe had time to properly panic and try to apologize.

"And I can keep it forever!"

Surprised, the dwarf blinked, suddenly finding himself with an armful of excited little hobbit.

"Thank you, Uncle Ori! I love it!"

The scribe feared his heart would burst as he blushed in embarrassment and immense pleasure. Small lips pressed against his cheek, causing his face to burn more.

"And I love you!" Frodo added.

Ori struggled for words, and instead returned the hobbit-kiss on the little one's forehead and received a happy beam in return.

* * *

**_Decorations_**

Tauriel did a double take when she entered the stables, her eyebrows slowly rising towards her hairline. Halting in front of the stall where Thranduil's elk was kept, the captain of the guard stared. The large creature had received its buttermilk bath, and its smooth fur gleamed in the light. But what was new were the garlands of holly draped over its body, a crown of tinsel resting on its head, and queer-shaped lights of various colors blinking along its antlers. The elk gazed calmly at the elf, contentedly munching on a green holly leaf.

"No, no! Snacking will spoil your appetite for milk and cookies!"

Tauriel jumped at the high-pitched, scandalized-sounding exclamation and watched in bemusement as the elven king rushed into the stables towards the stall, waving the plate of treats and glass of beverage in question which he held in his hands.

"Tis only fair she be included in the Yule festivities," Thranduil mumbled over his shoulder, his expression both dignified and sheepish, before focusing on the elk.

Tauriel simply shook her head.

* * *

**_Ice Skating_**

It seemed almost half the populace of Lake-town had chosen the afternoon for ice skating. Hand in hand, little boys and girls glided timidly over the ice, cheeks flushed from the cold. Young people skated fast and determined, exchanging shy glances. Older folk moved slowly yet surely, guiding and following without need of word or look, knowing one another so well.

Stroking alone around the outer circle of skaters, Bard clenched and unclenched his hands. In the past that had been he and Elsa; from when they could just barely walk, they had always been hand in hand. Bard had taken for granted the possibility that it would not be that way until they were old and white-haired. _And now…_

A gloved hand slipped into his left hand, drawing Bard's attention to his son, Bain's expression a mixture of concern and affection. The bowman glanced down as Tilda grasped his right hand firmly, her grin bright. Sigrid, holding her sister's other hand, gave her a father a small but no less heartfelt smile. Warmth filling him from the inside out, Bard's smile reached all the way up to his eyes as he glanced between his children, laughing when his youngest begged for them to go faster.

…_I'm not alone_.

* * *

**_Feast_**

Beorn cast a critical eye over the long table, his arms folded across his chest. There were bread and honey, stew, scalloped potatoes, stuffed and sautéed mushrooms, sausages with peppers, sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows, honey and cranberry biscuits, fried fish, stuffing, reindeer, chicken pot pie, buttered scones, cheese, pickles, honey-glazed ham, roasted chestnuts and peanuts, stout-hearted cake, lemon cake, cookies, apple tarts, and gooseberry pudding. Mead, ale, wine, coffee, hot chocolate, eggnog, and tea would be available for drinks.

A loud knock at the door had the skin-changer jumping and biting his bottom lip nervously before he waved away the goat that started for the door, a huge smile spreading across his face. "Welcome, my friends! Happy Yule!" he boomed, throwing the door open to his sixteen guests and politely ushering them in out of the cold.

It was not until the meal was done, with the wizard nodding contentedly off in his chair, the dwarves' rubbing their bellies and casting Beorn admiring glances, little bunny and little _little_ bunny enthusiastically praising his and his animals' cooking, and Thorin Oakenshield calling him "dwarf friend," that the tall man truly believed he had pulled off the feast.

* * *

**_Pudding _**

Bofur cautiously stuck his head into the room he shared with Bombur. A quick look around confirmed Mama had not come. Whimpering from the cradle spurred the dwarfling into action. Quietly he approached the cradle and peeked in at his baby brother (though he was very big for a two-year-old). As soon as Bombur spotted his big brother, the ginger-haired boy sat up, eyes wide and hopeful.

Grinning widely, Bofur carefully handed down a tiny bowl filled with chocolate pudding. He shushed his brother when he laughed gleefully.

"Quiet. We aren't going to tell we've gotten into the pudding early. It is our secret," the dwarfing whispered, holding a finger to his mouth, his cheeks dimpling.


	5. XXI-XXV

**_Party _**

Drogo Baggins did not partake in any of the singing, dancing, or games at the Yule party held in the Great Smials. Keeping company only with his pipe, his eyes wistfully followed Primula Brandybuck throughout the evening, too shy to talk to the pretty lass. His pining was interrupted when she unexpectedly approached him with the message from the Thain they were to teach the next dance to the guests of honor. …Guests whom were _elves_.

Now the poor hobbit fretted as he was pulled from his seat and across the room, worrying he'd step on the lady's toes, would forget the steps, or appear foolish to his partner and his relatives. Primula's encouraging smile and soothing words helped ease his anxieties, so that he was not terribly daunted by the size difference between him and the she-elf, and did the steps correctly if a bit nervously. When he bravely asked his partner where she and her companion were from, he found himself relaxing and impulsively smiling when she laughed sweetly and requested he use their names: Arwen and Legolas.

Perhaps it was the enjoyment of that unexpected dance, or the encouraging and approving looks Primula gave him as she danced with her own tall partner, or the Tookish blood in Drogo that caused him to do it. Whatever it was, Drogo felt like he had won his own fair maiden when Primula kissed his cheek and whispered, "Of course I accept your offer of courtship!"

* * *

**_Presents _**

Legolas said goodnight to Ada and went slowly to his bed chamber. He was still awfully disappointed that he had missed Mithrandir's visit. Seeing the gifts he'd provided to the other elf children had made the prince even sadder. How had he missed the wizard?

It was a few moments after he entered his room that Legolas noticed an object on his bed where his security blanket had used to be. Coming to the bedside, he peered at it curiously, eyes widening as he realized what it was. A note next to the toy caught his eye.

_A special gift for a special elf. _

_Merry Yule!_

_Mithrandir_

The prince's eyes, changing from disbelief to delight, returned to the toy, and he carefully lifted it up, a smile brightening his face. He cuddled the toy close, rocking back and forth.

"Hello, Kevion Fistforge. I'm Legolas. And you're my best friend!" he whispered to the dwarf pushie.

* * *

**_Snowball Fight_**

A bellow filled the air that sounded like it came from Dwalin of, "Snowball fight!" Wide-eyed, the hobbit stared at the former warriors-now-turned-little-dwarflings as they fell into the game with glee. Bilbo worried for Kili who, appearing a great deal like an infant, could only crawl, but quickly proved to be under his brother and uncle's protection.

"Gandalf! Do somet—"

The wizard's snowball got him right in the face. And by the time Bilbo could see again and had a snowball in hand, Gandalf had transported himself up a tree.

"_Coward!_"

* * *

**_Morning_**

As the bustle of exchanging presents wound down, Fili watched Thorin. His uncle had been pleased with the gifts from his sister and nephews, yet the young prince recalled how the king's eyes had truly lit up as they looked around the mountain, silently crying during the sunrise Yule service earlier. This was what the dwarven king had wished for so long, to be home.

"Uncle," Fili paused when the dwarf's blue eyes focused on him. Vaguely he noted Dis and Kili falling quiet. "Is the best gift this year for you celebrating Yule in Erebor once more?" he asked.

Thorin frowned, gaze turning inward before he shook his head. "No, Fili. The greatest gift is celebrating with you all, together," his voice was rough and low. And as he gazed over the three dwarves, Fili had never seen his eyes shine so brightly before.

* * *

**_Family _**

"Morning, brother. Happy Yule," were the words Dwalin woke up to as Balin nudged him awake since he had been a babe. There had been warmth, peace, and love in his brother's tone, and the younger dwarf always sleepily smiled and reached up to receive Balin's hug before he happily hopped out of bed.

"Good morning. Happy Yule, Master Dwalin!" are the words he had heard for what felt like a thousand years. The same words, often delivered by a different dwarf each year of some unknown relation, were polite, with no real affection behind them, reminding him of how alone he was. Instead of welcoming the day, Dwalin desired he could keep his eyes shut, wishing…pretending…wondering how much longer…

This morning the awareness of the lack of coldness in his old joints stirred his consciousness first. Behind his closed lids was an unusual white light. Softness surrounded him.

_Well done, my child, _a voice he had never heard before, yet instinctively _knew_, washed over him.

"Morning, brother."

And Dwalin opened his eyes as he was engulfed in an embrace he had missed for many long years, hugging back tight, burying his face in a well-known chest. Slowly he realized he was surrounded in a group hug by Thorin and his fellow dwarves on that long-ago quest, which were so dear to him. The tears finally fell when a small, barefoot creature wiggled into their midst and claimed he had kept them waiting a long time.

His family was whole once more.

THE END

* * *

Author's Note: "Presents" is based on _My Dwarf_.

Thank everyone for reading, commenting, etc.! Hope you enjoyed this series. :)


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